


Murphey's Magical Laws

by Rowaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen, it's baaaaaaaaaad crack, more crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3615528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowaine/pseuds/Rowaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This one isn't even really a story per se. It's the only series of drabbles that I ever managed to do -- as you all should know by now how long-winded I am :P</p><p>Still, it was sorta fun throwing this together. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphey's Magical Laws

Title: Murphy's Magical Laws

Author: Rowaine

Catagory: Humor and assorted others. Let's face it -- when Murphy is involved, it'll probably bring Angst as well. If you read between the lines. Hell, that can be said for anything. Nevermind... 

Pairing(s): Who knows? St. Murphy isn't that selective. In other words, it's random. There's het, slash, and nothing graphic. You've been warned not to take me seriously before, and this little series of micro-ficlets is the worst of the lot.

Spoilers: None intentionally, but maybe the occasional one. Assume all five books, and don't bitch if something slips in.

Author's Note: Yes, I've got stories I should be updating instead of posting all my old ones. I'll update the others as soon as I recover my sanity. Until then, may you enjoy this side trip.

Author's Note.2: The following is a series of unrelated scenes. Please make no attempt to rationalize them into any form of plot or other logical organized story. It just won't happen :P

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

#1 -- It's only funny when it's happening to somebody else.

Peter Pettigrew, that insufferable rat-faced bastard, had a fondness for bananas. Which led to his ultimate downfall at the hands of his Master.

Had he bothered to find a trash bin for the peel, instead of dropping it casually on the ground beside the snake-covered throne, he might still be alive today.

The dreaded Dark Lord, Voldemort, apparently has no sense of humor when the joke is on him.

Oops!

Lucky for the rest of the Death Eaters, their masks covered the identities of those few who couldn't restrain their snickers.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 2 -- Whatever you want, you can't have. Whatever you have, you don't want.

For years, Ron Weasley dreamed about his best friend, Hermione Granger. Between bouts of jealousy and angst, he watched her date several of their classmates from the shadows, wishing she were his.

Ten years, five kids, and two mortgages later...

He could no longer remember WHY he had once believed that Ms. Know-It-All Granger was ever the girl of his dreams. She was an absolute nightmare! Forever nagging him to grow up, to stop pranking with his brothers, to get a real job, to *gasp* THINK!

Oh the horror of it.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 3 -- There is no difference between a wise man and a fool... when they fall in love.

Even the most powerful wizard in the magical world has his weaknesses. 

Calling the Boy-Who-Lived into his office, Albus Dumbledore offered him a seat and some tea before beginning their latest planning session.

"But sir, you've never held much faith in Divinations before... Why are you so sure that this so-called prophecy is real?" asked a bewildered Harry Potter.

Thinking back to the night's activities, the Headmaster once again recalled his lover's enticements. He cleared his throat and answered the young man, "Ah, but this one comes from a most talented and respected source. Have no fear, dear boy! We'll find a way to use dungbombs and neon green tutus in the final confrontation with Riddle."

As the Golden Boy left, grumbling and still confused, Albus relaxed in his chair. Yes, his darling Sibyl would be quite pleased to know that he was at last taking her Inner Eye seriously.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 4 -- Love makes believers of us all. (Translation: Love obscures common sense.)

"Moody, you batty old fart, you know better than to take HER out into the field! She'll spend more time tripping over her own feet than getting any investigative work accomplished."

"Maybe so, but her inate morphing talents are ideal for cloaking her identity. Every Order member is needed at this point."

"Yes, fine. But don't come whining to me when your precious Tonks gets hexed into next century when she accidentally transfigures her hair into a homing beacon for the Dark Lord."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 5 -- It's only kinky the first time you do it.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I thought I just heard you say that you wanted to use pureed shrivelfigs as lubricant!?"

"Why yes, I did. Do you have a problem with that? Oh, and 15 points from Gryffindor for questioning my teaching methods, Mr. Potter."

"Snarky bastard. Can't even be nice during foreplay..."

"I heard that, Potter. Another 10 points. And instead, I believe we'll use runespore secretion."

"Ugh. If my bum doesn't recover from this, you're gonna be sorry."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 6 -- Gravity cannot be held responsible for two people falling in love.

Ah, the freedom of flight! 

Madam Xiomara Hooch glided across an updraft, exhalting in the clear day's light winds. She was having such a good time that she missed seeing her colleague's approach. 

In a tangle of robes and twigs, the two instructors attempted to pull themselves to rights... with several discrete gropes for good measure. 

"Dear Hagrid, if you wanted a snogging session, you could have just owled me."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 7 -- It's always the quiet one that has three dozen corpses in his basement.

From the dank depths of his grandmother's house, a young wizard gleefully rubbed his hands together. His last count was thirty-six. Three dozen tormentors put away. Sighing in pleasure, he cast a stronger purification spell on the area to prevent any hints of decaying bodies from wafting into other areas of the house. 

It had taken years of hard planning and harder work to wreck his vengence, but he had finally done it. The taunts and scorn of his childhood would at last be buried... along with his latest acquisition.

"Neville! Come wash up for dinner, young man. I won't have you dragging in any more dirt from your workroom."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 8 -- Sow your wild oats on Saturday night... then on Sunday, pray for crop failure.

'Oh gods, what in bloody hell did I do last night?' 

Turning over slowly, Draco Malfoy reached a trembling hand out for the ever-present bottle of anti-hangover potion. As foul as it tasted, the vile liquid was an improvement over whatever Dark creature had crawled into his mouth and died overnight. His body ached in numerous places, but he could not recall anything from the previous night's activities. 

After the required five minutes for the potion to take its full effect, he carefully opened his eyes to examine the numerous sore spots. With a muffled curse, he caught sight of his latest bedmate... and fought to control the urge to empty his stomach.

'Please, Merlin, Salazar, GODRIC, anybody! Don't let her have forgotten the anti-conception charm. My father would kill me if she were to turn up on our doorstep in nine months with a dog-faced bastard. Whatinhell kind of lust potion did Bulstrode give me anyways?!'

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 9 -- What matters is not the length of the wand, but the magic in the stick.

Filius Flitwick never had a problem with the ladies. Oh, he was undoubtedly... diminuitive (to be polite), but that hardly mattered. One of the co-authors of the Magical Kama Sutra, Filius was indeed a master of charms, and he knew how to use them to best effect.

Every evening, a different witch would be waiting to offer her services, and leave the following morning with a thoroughly satisfied glow (magical or not).

Yes, it was good to be so proficient in his field. Size isn't everything, but talent certainly overcomes the smallest obstacles.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

# 10 -- If a man speaks aloud in the forest and there is no woman there to hear him, is he still wrong?

At the top of his voice, Argus Filch told the denizens of the Forbidden Forest, "I am the most powerful being in the world! Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, that Potter brat, they are nothing compared with the Great and Powerful FILCH!"

All tirades must end, and after a respectable amount of time, the caretaker of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry finally took his leave of his refuge. Upon re-entering the castle grounds, a gnarled hand took his arm.

"Argus, I understand your need to... let it out once in awhile, but we really must find you a counselor to deal with this world domination fantasy of yours."

Catching the gleam in his lover's eye, the crotchety Squib bowed his head before meekly answering, "Yes Minnie dear, whatever you feel is best."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Author's Note.3: I can't say if I'll ever write more of these. This collection of short, dumb plot bunnies was to give me a bit of therapy... sorta like bubble-wrap. In a world that creates bubble-wrap, psychologists are unnecessary!

On a different level, I do NOT promote some of the couplings listed above. But for comedy's sake, I'm willing to throw damned near anyone together. Just be grateful I couldn't find a way to stick Moldy Voldie into a menage a trois with the senior Crabbe and Goyle :P


End file.
